


I’ve Lost the Moon (While Trying to Count the Stars)

by matassie_xyx69



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Art hoe!Kevin, Based on a SayWeCanFly Song, Falling In Love, Light Angst, Light Sexual Content, M/M, Moonbae, New York City, One Night Stands, Punk Rock, Rock Clubs, Rocker!Jacob, Song fic, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25004608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matassie_xyx69/pseuds/matassie_xyx69
Summary: But now, the world was staring at him with coffee brown eyes, sandy hair, and too much leather for Kevin’s own good. If this was a challenge from whatever gods were testing his will to stay alive, Kevin was ready to accept. He was done with hiding from people because of shame and fear. He came to New York for a reason, and he wasn't about to let the ghost of his past keep him from breaking out of his shell.
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin
Comments: 32
Kudos: 156





	I’ve Lost the Moon (While Trying to Count the Stars)

“Are you sure about this Eric? I mean, you just met me, and-“ 

“Aw relax man. I swear, the guys are super chill. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

Kevin felt like he had a lot of things to worry about. He wasn’t a punk rocker like Eric, and he was extremely awkward on a good day. He’d never been to a rock concert, much less with someone he literally just met an hour ago. Everything about this situation just screamed uncomfortable to Kevin, and he really just wanted to go back to his apartment by Madison Square Park and watch more episodes of Gossip Girl. Yet here he was, following the uni kid he’d just met down the stairs to an underground punk scene only a few blocks from The Met. 

Eric was still talking. “And besides, it's not even really a concert. It's more like a punk rock club. People just get up and play their music and everyone else just vibes. It's completely safe.” 

Kevin wasn't really much concerned about the safety of the concert as he was about meeting Eric’s friends. The kid was the definition of punk-rock, with a studded leather jacket, patchwork jeans and busted up vans, a Led Zeppelin t-shirt with burn holes and stains under his jacket. His peroxide-blonde hair was swept up in various swoops and spikes, and his eyes were stained with eyeliner. A few of his nails were painted black. Standing next to him, Kevin probably looked like an angel from heaven, which was saying a lot because he dressed like a skater. Still, Eric made him feel like he was about to have his punk-rock virginity stolen from him. 

The club didn't really help Kevin’s anxiety much either. It was crowded, with flashing strobe lights and a small smoke-filled stage that took up the back wall. There was a crowd of people dressed similarly to Eric pressing up against the walls and each other, so close Kevin wondered how they didn’t lose an eye from all the spikes and studs protruding from various articles of clothing. Eric made his way through the crowds like a pro though, and it was all Kevin could do not to get lost behind him. Eric brought him to the edge of the crowd, where a few tables were set up by a bar. It looked like most people were over by the stage, but there was a group of guys standing at the bar while a young kid, about Eric’s age probably, mixed drinks and made a mess. Kevin doubted he was a bartender. He also had a sinking feeling that these guys were exactly who Eric was here to meet. 

Unfortunately, he was correct. The kid at the bar looked up as Eric squeezed between a stocky guy with biceps bigger than Kevin’s head and a thin, slouchy kid with dusty red hair. Even though the guy at the bar was very clearly drunk seven ways to Sunday, his eyes lit up at the sight of Eric and he reached across the bar to engage in what looked to be a very complicated handshake. 

“There you are you little bastard,” Bar Guy crowed, practically dragging Eric across the bar when he hooked his arm around his neck and drunkenly rubbed their cheeks together. “Took you long enough.” 

Eric was laughing. “Sorry Hwallie, I made a friend.” 

Suddenly all eyes in the small group seemed to notice that Kevin was standing there awkwardly, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. When they all looked at him he lifted his hand half heartedly in a timid wave. 

Eric slid off of the bar. “Everyone, this is Kevin. I met him over at the skate park before coming here.” 

Everyone seemed to be taking him in for a moment, and Kevin wondered if he was about to be excommunicated from the punk-rock scene before they all grinned and Bicep Guy clapped him on the shoulder with so much force Kevin thought his eyeballs were going to pop out of their sockets. 

“Nice to meet you Kevin. I’m Sangyeon-“ Bicep Guy started, “-this is Juyeon-“ he motioned to the athletic man next to him, “-that wacko is Hwall-“ he motioned to Bar Guy, “and that one is Sunwoo,” he finished, gesturing at the slouching kid. As they were introduced, they all waved or smiled, except for Hwall who laughed and leaned forward over the bar once Sangyeon was done. Kevin was afraid he would topple over the edge. 

“So Kevin, what's your scene?” He asked, the words punctuated with a hiccup and a giggle. Sangyeon was right, this guy was a wacko. Unfortunately, Kevin had no idea what he was talking about. 

Eric came to his aid, placing a gentle hand on Kevin’s shoulder. “He’s just checking things out Hwallie. I invited him after all.” 

“Thats cool thats cool,” Hwall replied, leaning back and reaching under the bar counter, coming up with a flask of what Kevin assumed to be whiskey. He flicked off the lid and took a swig as the entire group rolled their eyes. “We dont judge down here,” he belched, before any words that came out of his mouth were drowned in applause from the crowd listening to the band on stage. Hwalls eyes widened. “Shit, I gotta get up there. Someone get this guy a beer yeah?” Then he hiccuped again, giggled, and grabbed a sleek white electric guitar before swinging himself over the bar and sprinting up to the stage. 

Kevin took a moment to digest everything that had just happened before turning to Eric. “Is he-“ 

“Always like that? Yeah pretty much. The guy’s a loose cannon.” Eric shrugged before reaching over the bar and producing a bottle of beer that he cracked open and extended to Kevin. “Here. You're gonna need it if he’s playing next.”

Kevin winced, looking at the beer. “Is he that bad?” 

“Of course not, they wouldn't let him up there if he was. Nah, he's just loud.” As if to prove Eric’s point, a loud scream echoed throughout the little club and Kevin winced as the rest of the crowd cheered. None of the guys seemed very phased; in fact, Eric turned to Sangyeon before the scream even died down and asked, “Where’s Jake?” 

“Covering for a coworker. He’ll be here soon.” 

Kevin was confused. “Who’s Jake?” 

“My roommate,” Sangyeon said simply before patting the barstool next to him. The others were occupied by Juyeon and Sunwoo, so Kevin hesitantly took a seat. Sangyeon seemed to sense his nerves, so he flashed him a small smile. “It can be pretty overwhelming here at first, I know. But it's a fun place to hang out and vibe. Plus the music is good.” 

Kevin took a moment to look over Sangyeon. He didn't much look like a punk-rocker, with a simple black t-shirt and jeans and a red flannel draped over one of his arms. In fact, Sunwoo and Juyeon looked just as laid back as Sangyeon did. Sunwoo looked more like a skater, with a black hoodie, torn up jeans and busted sneakers. Juyeon was dressed in a white tank top depicting some band that Kevin didn't know, with joggers and Nike’s. In fact, the only one in the group that had looked like he was into punk other than Eric was Hwall, and Kevin figured that was because the guy was a singer. He’d been decked out in a white leather jacket with studded shoulders and a studded collar and a studded belt and studded boots. His jeans were shredded and covered in patches like Eric’s, and a mesh top covered his chest. He’d had raccoon makeup on. Next to Juyeon and Sunwoo, Kevin felt a little more normal, but if he’d been left with Hwall he was sure he’d have ditched the place by now. 

Sangyeon was talking. It took Kevin a moment to figure out what he had said over the noise of Hwall’s music. “What do you do, Kevin?” 

He tapped his fingers against the neck of his beer. “I’m an artist.” 

Sangyeon didn't look surprised. “Thats cool. Monet kind of artist or Banksy kind of artist?” 

Kevin flushed and ducked his head. “A little bit of both, actually.” 

“Yeah,” Eric cut in. Kevin didn’t know where he got the mouthful of chips but then he figured he probably didn't want to know. “He was doing this super cool graffiti over at the skatepark. I asked him about it and then figured he’d fit in with the rest of us.” 

_ I don't know about that,  _ Kevin thought to himself. He barely fit in with the skater crowd, much less the punk scene. The only reason he’d gone to the skatepark was because it was the easiest place to do street art. Then Eric had started talking his ear off and before he knew it he’d wound up here, with Hwall screaming about rebellion and the crowd cheering him on. Not really what he would count as a good time, if he was being completely honest. Kevin preferred the more chill side of things. He liked jazz and art museums and 60s themed diners and city pop. He did not so much like heavy eyeliner, girls in lingerie for clothes, intense electric guitar and strobe lights. 

Sangyeon was talking again. Kevin tried to focus on the man and not on the fact that he felt incredibly out of place sandwiched between the bar and Eric, but it didn’t work as well as he’d hoped. He tried to listen to Sangyeon nonetheless.

“How long you been in New York?” 

Kevin sipped his beer. It felt cool against his tongue. “Couple months now. Moved here from Vancouver for an art exhibition. Should be up by the end of August.” 

“Damn, that’s sweet. Much better reason to come here than I had, that's for sure.” Sangyeon reached over the bar counter between Kevin and Juyeon, who was quietly sipping his own drink as he listened to Hwall, and came back with a new beer. “I wanted to become a musician. Not the Hwall kind, but a musician nonetheless. But it's hard to make it here. Eventually, I just stopped. Now I’m the manager of a little cafe on Lexington and 72nd. Better than nothing I suppose.” Sangyeon shrugged. Kevin wanted to tell the man not to give up on his dream, but the more he contemplated it, the more hallmark he felt it would sound coming from him. He’d just gotten lucky with his art. Sometimes, other people never got there. 

“Better than nothing,” Kevin echoed, before turning to Juyeon. Neither him nor Sunwoo had spoken, leading him to think they were more introverted, but for all he knew maybe he was just super weird and they didn’t want to talk to him. “What about you Juyeon?” 

He seemed surprised to be addressed, setting his beer down on the bar and turning to face him. His hair was dyed a dark blue that Kevin hadn't noticed before. “Oh, I’m a street dancer. At least, for a side gig. My main joint is over at a private gym off of 65th. Personal trainer.” 

Kevin nodded. It suited Juyeon. He was lean and athletic looking. Quite the opposite of Sunwoo, who sat on his other side with hooded eyes that stared listlessly out at the crowd. “And you?” 

He gave Kevin a lazy shrug, barely glancing at him. “Uni. With Eric. Study music.” 

Well that was short and to the point. Kevin nodded, pressing his lips together awkwardly. Despite the noise in the rock club, Kevin felt like he was drowning in silence. Hwall had worked the crowd into a frenzy, and while the guys around him were grinning and nodding along, aside from Sunwoo, Kevin felt like he would die unless someone started talking soon. That didn’t end up happening, but at some point Eric dragged Sunwoo off by the hand to go crazy in the crowd, leaving him with Juyeon and Sangyeon, who he figured were the most sane of the little group. 

“Eric said you were at the skatepark right? You don't have a board.” Sangyeon decided to start talking again as Hwall took a few minutes to check the tuning on his guitar. Kevin nearly dropped his beer when the man addressed him again. 

“Huh? Oh. I don’t actually skate. I have a friend who does though, so every now and then he invites me out to do some graffiti.” 

“Whos’ your friend? Eric knows a lot of the skate guys, we’ve probably met him.” 

“He goes by Q.” 

Juyeon nearly fell off his barstool. Kevin and Sangyeon both stared at him. He coughed and set down his beer. “Q? Are you serious? Q is a legend.” 

Kevin was confused. “At skating..?” That didn't seem right. Kevin had seen him fall flat on his face on multiple occasions. 

“No no no. He’s a street dancer. His videos get like, millions of views. Damn, you think I could ask you for his autograph?” Juyeon was laughing, so Kevin didn't take it seriously, but he probably could. He knew Q was a dancer of course; it was pretty much how he opened every conversation with people he had just met. But Kevin was unaware that he’d made friends with a celebrity. Or as close to one as you could get in this city. 

Kevin sipped his beer again. “I assume he's better at dancing than he is at skating then. Idiot nearly broke his wrist a few weeks ago.” 

Juyeon snorted, looking a little disbelieving, but Kevin wasn't about to tell him every lame story he had of his friend. That would probably be disrespectful to Q’s honor, not to mention incredibly uncool of Kevin as his friend. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” 

The three of them all looked at the newcomer who slouched up and then it was Kevin’s turn to nearly fall off his barstool. The guy that was sliding up next to Sangyeon was who Kevin assumed to be Jake. He looked a little bit more into the punk scene than Juyeon and Sangyeon did, with a white and black leather jacket and studded boots, but other than that he looked like the rest of them. He was wearing a band t-shirt with burn holes like Eric’s, and motorcycle gloves. A few chains hung from his belt loops on his tight black jeans with tears at the knees. He had sandy brown hair that was swept away from his face, but kept drifting into his eyes. Peircings speared both of his ears. He looked good. Kevin blamed the alcohol for his uncoordinated reaction to Jake’s appearance. 

Sangyeon slung an arm around Jake’s shoulders. “There you are, you bastard. You kept our guest waiting.” 

Jake’s eyebrows turned up. “Guest?” It was then that he noticed Kevin sitting on the barstool as if he didn't belong. Jake’s face cracked into a lopsided smile that Kevin felt could make the planets turn. He extended a hand out to him after sweeping his stubborn hair back again. “Hey, I’m Jake. Or Jacob. The guys call me Jake.” 

Kevin swallowed as he took Jake’s hand. “Kevin.” 

“Hope you don’t mind if we leave you two here?” Sangyeon asked. Kevin definitely minded, but he wasn't about to open his mouth and risk being seen as a pussy. “We should really go give Eric and Sunwoo some adult supervision.” 

Jake didn't seem phased, shrugging and reaching over the bar for his own beer. Sangyeon’s eyes lingered on Kevin, but he flashed what he hoped to be a confident smile that seemed to ease the man’s conscience. Both him and Juyeon swigged down the rest of their beers before heading into the crowd that cheered on Hwall, leaving Kevin alone with a stranger. Oh what a night he was having. 

“So Kevin,” Jake said, opening his beer. Kevin turned to look at him. “What brings you to our quaint bit of hell?” 

Kevin snorted around his beer, which caused Jake’s eyebrows to raise in a playful smirk. He immediately felt his ears burn. “Eric found me at the skate park and thought I’d have a good time here.” 

Jake smiled. “Eric thinks everyone would have a good time here. Question is, are you?” 

Kevin shrugged and lowered his beer, holding it between his legs as he looked out at the rock club. He’d never known that places like this existed. It was small, but jam-packed with bodies all reacting to Hwalls raspy voice over the speakers and the electrifying riffs of his guitar. Everyone here seemed to be having such a good time. Everyone here seemed to fit in with everyone else here. Kevin had never felt like he fit in with the punk rock crowd, or any crowd for that matter. Sure, he’d had his artist friends and the band kids back in high school, but those were people he knew by proxy, not because they clicked one way or another. 

That wasn't to say he didn't like the joint. The vibe was pretty unparalleled in Kevin’s experience, and the music was actually good, surprisingly. Hwall may have been drunk but he knew how to sing and play the guitar. Plus the guys that Eric had introduced him to were nice and willing to accept a random stranger into their midst. 

He shrugged again, knowing that Jake was looking at him. “I'm not having a bad time.” 

“I suppose that’s all we can ask for these days,” Jake chuckled, then lifted his beer to take a sip. Kevin watched him out of the corner of his eye, seeing the man looking out at the crowd just as he had just moments before. Then Jake swept back his disobedient hair and turned to him again. “Tell me about yourself Kevin.” 

Immediately Kevin’s walls went up. He knew this dance. He knew his steps. Say just enough to seem casual but not too much that he ends up in a compromising position. Just the basics. “I’m from Vancouver. Moved here a couple months ago to prepare for an art showcase. That's pretty much all there is to tell.” 

Jake shook his head, leaning against the bar with one elbow. “Nah. Everyone’s got a story. I know there’s more to yours than that.” 

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?” 

Jake looked a little surprised at his suspicion before he set his beer down on the bar counter and held out a placating hand. “Hey, if you're not comfortable telling me then that’s fine. I don’t mean to pry, I’m just trying to get to know you.” 

Kevin looked at Jake. Then he looked at the beer in his hand. Then he looked out at the crowd.  _ Screw it _ , he thought.  _ You only live once right? Might as well start now.  _ “I’ve been doing art since I was in middle school. My parents didn’t approve. They wanted me to go to Harvard or Yale or some other big name school and become a lawyer or a doctor. Big let-down when they found out I declared a fine arts major.” 

“So you don’t get along with them?” Jake was staring at Kevin with interest. It was unnerving. 

Kevin shook his head. “Nah, not really. A couple weeks before I moved out we had this big spat. The usual ‘you should be more like Stella’ conversation. It's not my fault I’m not a stem major like my sister, you know?” Jake was nodding along empathetically. “Because of that, things were tense in the house for a while. And then my dad walked in on me with one of my old friends…” Kevin winced at the memory. “You can imagine how that turned out. First he’s got a fine arts major for a son. Then it turns out that son is gay.” 

Jake didn’t speak for a while, letting Kevin take a few sips of his now-almost-empty beer. “That really sucks man. I’m sorry.” 

Kevin shrugged. “It's alright. I came here in the nick of time. A fresh start.” 

“And how's that going for you?” Jake sounded like a therapist. 

“Alright, I suppose. I'm focusing on my showcase. Made a couple friends. And now I’m here.” 

“Now you’re here,” Jake echoed, watching as Kevin self-consciously finished off his beer. He could feel the guy’s eyes boring into the side of his face. He couldn’t tell if it bothered him or embarrassed him. He wasn't used to people so blatantly staring at him. “If it’s any consolation, I’m from Toronto,” Jake said finally. 

Kevin turned his head to look at him. “What brought you down here?” 

Now it was Jake’s turn to stare at his beer. “Same as you I suppose. Wanted to get away from home. Have a fresh start. I moved out four years ago, after graduating high school. Never finished college. I had some pressure from my parents to at least graduate, but I had other things I wanted to do. So I came down here and went with the flow. Moved in with Sangyeon, took a few classes here or there, and focused on myself.” 

Kevin hooked a foot on the rung of the barstool, standing on it to blindly rummage behind the bar for something else to drink. He came back with a bottle of vodka, stared at it, then sighed and twisted it open. “What sort of things do you do? The guys said you work at a diner.” 

Jake’s eyes sparkled with amusement at Kevin’s drinking choices. “I'm a musician.” 

Kevin choked on his vodka for more than one reason. “You mean like Hwall?” 

Jake actually laughed. “Definitely not. More like SayWeCanFly.” 

“His music is sad, bro,” Kevin said with a wince, again for more than one reason. 

Jake shrugged. “Sadness is easier to write songs about.” 

Now that, Kevin could understand. He kept a poetry journal, and he’d be lying if he said the majority of those pages weren’t filled with verses that could bring someone to tears. That's what happens when you spend the majority of your life in the closet and are disowned for your career choices. 

“You do any music Kevin?” Jake brought the conversation back to safer topics casually, downing the rest of his beer. 

“Singing. Piano. Saxophone.” 

That always got him an odd look. “Saxophone?” Jake asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

“I was in band back in high school,” Kevin replied. Usually that was enough for people to completely drop the conversation. No one liked band kids except band kinds. Even band kids barely liked band kids. But Jake didn’t seem phased. He just nodded. 

“Sometimes I wish I had gone the performing arts route. I did sports in high school.” 

That made Kevin do a double take. He looked at Jake from above the rim of his vodka that he was repeatedly wishing he’d put back but never actually did. If Jake noticed his sudden size-up he didn't show it, tapping a finger against the neck of his beer as his eyes skimmed the crows. Kevin narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t really noticed at first, but Jake had an athlete's body. Broad shoulders, good proportions, and evident strength in his legs. Kevin took another swig of vodka. Then he gagged. 

“Nope I’m done with this.” 

Jake laughed as he hastily shoved the vodka back behind the bar. “I don't know why you thought that was a good idea, honestly.” 

Kevin ducked his head, pulling at his earlobe. A nervous habit. “I just figured why not. I’m in an unfamiliar place, with loud music and people that I hardly know. Wouldn’t feel like you needed an extra shot of something to keep you going?” 

Jake had been laughing, but as Kevin explained himself his face grew sympathetic. Tentatively, he reached out and placed his fingertips against Kevin’s shoulders, flashing him an easy smile. The touch felt like lightning striking through Kevin’s nerves. “I think I need to apologize on behalf of Eric. Only a certain kind of person would take easily to being in a place like this with strangers.” 

Kevin shrugged, and Jake must’ve taken it as a sign of his distaste because he withdrew his hand immediately. Kevin tried not to be disappointed. “It's alright. It's hard to say no to him. And it's not that bad.” 

“It is hard, you're right,” Jake chuckled. Kevin watched as the hand that was previously on his shoulder went respectfully into the pocket of Jake’s jeans. “But still. A little bit uncool of him.” 

Kevin smiled. He’d only just met the guy, but Jake seemed to be very good at reading people. He made Kevin feel comfortable, sitting by the bar of an underground punk rock club that he’d been brought to by a stranger. And if that didn't say everything about Jake’s character then Kevin didn't know what would. Jake was by far the easiest person to talk to that Kevin had met tonight, but he didn't know if that was because of who the guy was or because of the vodka in his system. Either way, talking to Jake was easy. It felt like breathing clear air into his lungs for the first time in months. 

Jake noticed him staring. It made Kevin’s skin crawl in a not-unpleasant way when he stared right back, the coffee shade of his eyes only just noticeable under the various lights of the club. Kevin didn't know if he was still smiling. He hoped he wasn't, because he had a feeling that would make him look like a weirdo. The group already had Hwall, they didn't need him too. 

Jake set down his beer and turned to face Kevin full-on. It was only then that he noticed the small amount of space between them. Was Jake’s body always that close? He didn't know. Kevin didn't know anything anymore. Hell, he didn't even know who he was. 

“Hey,” Jake said, voice a little quieter. Without the lack of distance between them, Kevin didn't think he would've heard him. “Wanna dust the joint?” 

Now, it may have been the alcohol, or Kevin’s extraordinary vernacular, or the fact that he had no clue what the fuck Jake meant, but he very eloquently replied, “Huh?” 

And it may have been the alcohol, or the lights of the club, or his imagination, but he could've sworn Jake’s ears turned red. “I mean, wanna get out of here?” 

Now it was Kevin’s turn to flush. He hoped Jake couldn’t see it. “Sure.” 

And that may have been the most stupid decision Kevin ever made in his whole life. Or it may have been the best one. Kevin wasn't sure. Because never before in his life had he accepted an offer to “dust the joint” as Jake had put it. Much less with a stranger. Kevin had read the stories, he knew what usually happened. Random guy gets swept away by a hot stranger from a mildly uncomfortable situation, and the two rendezvoused back at said hot strangers apartment for a night of horizontal tangoing before said random guy never sees the hot stranger ever again. It may have just been Kevin, but that had never really seemed like a totally great time. That was, of course, before he met Jake. 

Yet at the same time, when Kevin stared at the back of Jake’s shoulders as they ascended the stairs to the rest of New York, he couldn't bring himself to believe that the stories would be true for him. Jake hadn’t invited him back to his apartment. All he had offered was a chance to leave the rock club that wouldn’t make Eric bummed. What came next, Kevin had relatively no idea. Maybe Jake would walk him back to his own apartment, and he’d stand at the door awkwardly for too long and Kevin would kick himself for not having the balls to invite him inside for coffee or tea or more beer. And then Jake would slink away and he’d never see him again, like in the stories except he didn't get to do any horizontal tangoing. Or maybe Jake would take him to a much cooler place to hang out, with indie music and alcoholic coffee and violet LEDs, where they’d sway like hippies in a flower field until Kevin was asleep on his feet. And then Jake would walk him back to his apartment, and stand at the door awkwardly, and Kevin wouldn't have the balls to invite him in and then he’d never see him again. 

Or maybe Jake would lead him back to a quaint little coffee shop with brick walls, three tables, and a heavy iron door in the back. 

“This is Sangyeon’s shop,” Jake said, whipping a set of keys out from his jacket and unlocking the door. “We live in the place upstairs, along with a bunch of other broke upstarts.” 

Or maybe Jake would take Kevin back to his place after all. 

Kevin whistled as he ran his hand over the fake granite countertop. The cafe wasn't impressive by any standards, but he was a sucker for cute indie places like this. He loved it immediately. 

Jake locked the door behind them before making his way behind the counter. Kevin took a seat at one of the two barstools set up next to a tiny display case that was filled with bagels and donuts. 

“Want a drink? I’m not Sangyeon, but I know my way around an espresso machine fairly well.” 

Or maybe Jake would make him a coffee and send him on his way. 

“A Vienna coffee would be nice,” Kevin heard himself saying. He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe himself. This night would no doubt end with him laying on his bed and wishing he’d had the balls to invite Jake to do literally anything, and yet he kept dragging it on. He should really just save himself the misery, take the coffee and leave. But when Jake pushed the mug of espresso and whipped cream across the counter towards him, he couldn't bring himself to do anything except take a sip and try to ignore the fact that Jake’s eyes were flicking over his face. The eyes that were the exact same color of his drink. Kevin was going mad. 

“Hey Jake?” He asked. 

Jake’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh, please, call me Jacob. I prefer it.” 

It was Kevin’s turn to be surprised. “But the guys all called you Jake?” 

It definitely wasn't his imagination this time when Jacob’s ears turned red. “I didn’t have the heart to tell Eric that I usually use my full name.” 

Guess it really was hard to say no to that kid. Kevin understood. He had boundless energy and a youthful personality. He had a feeling that saying no to Eric would feel like kicking a puppy. 

“Besides,” Jacob continued. “Jake is a fuckboy name.” 

Kevin nearly snorted whipped cream out of his nose. When he barely choked down his coffee and began laughing, Jacob’s eyes crinkled up in a smile. The same smile that felt like sunlight bursting in Kevin’s stomach. To call it cute would be an understatement; he felt like he was sitting in direct sunlight. But he wanted to tell Jacob how his smile felt, even if it was just by calling it cute. He was about to say something about it when Jacob beat him to it. 

“You have a cute laugh.” 

Kevin shut up immediately, heat rushing into his cheeks. Jacob boldly moved to lean his elbows on the counter across from him as he suddenly found his coffee extremely interesting. “No one’s ever told me that before,” he mumbled, risking a glance up at Jacob. 

He shrugged. “I'm just being honest.” 

If that was Jacob’s idea of being honest, Kevin almost rather he lied. He wasn't sure how much mild flirting he could take. He could feel Jacob’s eyes on him still as he studied his coffee.  _ Man up Kevin,  _ he scolded himself.  _ What happened to you that when a guy flirts with you, you can’t flirt back?  _ He knew the answer of course. Getting disowned by his parents had pretty much shattered his confidence. His fresh start that he’d been looking for in New York hadn’t come yet, and that was all because he’d become too much of a coward to reach back out to the world. 

But now, the world was staring at him with coffee brown eyes, sandy hair, and too much leather for Kevin’s own good. If this was a challenge from whatever gods were testing his will to stay alive, Kevin was ready to accept. He was done with hiding from people because of shame and fear. He came to New York for a reason, and he wasn't about to let the ghost of his past keep him from breaking out of his shell. 

So he lifted his eyes to meet Jacob’s, smiled, and said, “Well if I’m being honest, you’re pretty cute too.” 

Jacob looked pleasantly surprised. Then he laughed, covering his mouth with his hand. His laugh held even more sunlight than his smile. “I wasn’t expecting that. You seem kind of shy.” 

_ I was.  _ Kevin thought to himself. “Nah,” he said instead, stirring the whipped cream into his espresso before licking the bottom of his straw. He saw Jacob swallow. “Not shy. I was just anxious back at the rock club.” 

“Sorry again about that,” Jacob said. He seemed a little distracted, but Kevin didn’t stop to think about it and let doubt ruin his confidence. For all he knew, Jacob was distracted by him. He hoped so. That would be good. 

“It’s not a big deal. I've been in worse scenarios. You ever had to play Pomp and Circumstance for four hours straight during your own graduation while needing to pee? Most nerve-wracking experience of my life.” 

Jacob burst out laughing, and Kevin grinned. It felt good to be the reason Jacob was smiling. It felt better than he could look at him while he was doing it. Jacob’s laughter made him feel warm. 

“You know, I can’t say that I have. But I was once dared to go an entire volleyball game with a wedgie. Truly horrifying experience.” 

_ Well that explains the thighs,  _ Kevin thought to himself as he laughed along with Jacob. He let himself look at Jacob as they shared random stupid stories from high school and college, like the one time Kevin had been dared to serenade a young math teacher on his saxophone, or the time Jacob’s basketball team lost a tournament and their captian initiated a lovely self-imposed punishment of wearing the schools cheerleading uniforms to the pep rally. Jacob’s eyes crinkled when he smiled, and he covered his mouth every now and then when he was particularly winded from a story. Kevin also indulged himself in some wistful thinking that Jacob was studying him the same way. He barely noticed when his coffee was gone. 

After they finished laughing about the time Kevin had been given a months worth of detention for drawing an inappropriate likeness of their principal on every whiteboard in the school, Jacob inclined his head and looked at him with something that made Kevin’s heart jump into his throat. 

“Wanna come upstairs?” Jacob asked, voice a little bit raspier from all the breathless giggles they’d shared. 

Kevin felt his ears burn. He had no clue what kind of connotation Jacob was putting with the offer, but his stomach did a somersault anyway. He checked his phone. Jesus, it was already close to 2 am. 

“I should probably head back to my apartment,” he managed to get out. He hoped with everything in his entire essence that Jacob would refuse to let him leave. “It’s getting late.” 

Jacob’s smile was gone. Kevin’s mouth felt like sandpaper. “You really shouldn't go out by yourself this time of night you know. How far is your apartment?” 

Kevin scratched at a speck on the countertop. “Close to Madison Square.” 

Jacob looked aghast. “Did you take the subway?” 

“I walked,” Kevin replied. “Don’t have a subway pass yet.” He said it nonchalantly, but Kevin was a struggling artist. He had his showcase coming up, but any revenue it brought it would reach him after the fact. He was pretty much dead broke. He walked or biked everywhere in Manhattan, which was rather good exercise but not at all efficient. 

“Kev, no.” Jacob gave him a hard look, and Kevin tried to ignore the way his heart did a flip-flop at the new nickname. “I'm not letting you walk all the way back down to Madison Square. You can crash at our place. Sangyeon usually hangs out with Eric after club nights anyway, so it's not a big deal.” 

Kevin pretended like spending the night at Jacob’s wasn't the one thing he wanted most right now. “I don't know, I don't want to be a bother.” Why was he saying that? He wanted to be a bother. He wanted to bother Jacob for a long time if it meant staying the night. 

“It’s not a bother Kev. Come on, you’re spending the night.” 

And that was that. Jacob dumped the empty coffee mug into one of the bay sinks behind the counter and marched back around to grab Kevin’s wrist, gently tugging him back to the iron door that he unlocked. They went up a flight of stairs to a cramped hallway with a dozen or so different doors. Jacob stopped at one that read 12 and unlocked the door, holding it open for Kevin matter-of-factly. 

The apartment was a bit cramped, as was to be expected considering Jacob and Sangyeon were both struggling adults. The door opened into a small kitchen, with a cramped bathroom across from the stove. The main room was small, with a couch, coffee table and tv, and a collection of instruments and cheap recording equipment shoved against the back wall under the window. By the couch was a door that Kevin assumed led to one of the bedrooms, the other door by the tv. The shag carpet had a few stains, and the whole place smelled like burnt wood, which wasn’t really unpleasant if you asked Kevin. 

“Sorry it's a bit sloppy,” Jacob murmured, shifting around Kevin to pick up a few t-shirts and towels that were strewn across various items of furniture. “Sangyeon and I don’t ever really have anyone over.” 

“It's alright,” Kevin said, walking into the middle of the living room. “Mine is worse.” Which was true. His cramped studio had peeling paint, mold in the bathroom, and a rat problem. His laundry was haphazardly strewn in a garbage bag. His bed was more of a nest than an actual mattress with blankets. Compared to Kevin’s living situation, Jacob’s apartment was paradise. 

He ended up taking a seat on the couch, which smelled like ramen, politely folding his hands in his lap. He wasn’t really sure what the protocol was now that he was inside Jacob’s apartment. Did he sleep on the couch? Did they stay up talking? Was he supposed to flirt harder and try to get in Jacob’s pants? 

Apparently none of those options were correct, because after Jacob disposed of the worst of the mess, he tapped his fingers against his thigh before grabbing a sleek pale guitar from the collection in the corner and coming to sit on the coffee table across from Kevin without even turning on the lights. Getting serenaded was not on Kevin’s list of things to expect from cute strangers but if Jacob was going to sing for him he wasn't about to decline. 

Jacob strummed the guitar. Kevin winced. It was out of tune. 

“Sorry,” Jacob muttered, quickly tuning it. “It's finicky.” 

Kevin shook his head. As a band kid he’d had to learn how to tune his own instruments, but some other kids never really refined that skill. He’d grown used to hearing slightly out of tune instruments. 

Jacob strummed the guitar a few more times before beginning to play the chords of a song. Then he started singing. And by god did Kevin swear he saw angels. 

Jacob’s voice was high sweet and soft, and a little bit raspy. It sounded like strawberry shortcake. In the back of his muddled mind, Kevin wondered if it would taste like that too. Jacob’s fingers strummed at the guitar carefully, yet it was obvious that he knew the song like the back of his hand. Lukas Graham, Lullaby. If you asked Kevin, Jacob’s delicate voice was perfect for the song. He wondered if Jacob had sung this before, for a YouTube channel or street performances, because it seemed practiced. Or maybe he just knew the song for himself, and sang it because it was the first one that came to mind. Kevin didn’t know. He didn’t care either. He just wanted Jacob to keep singing. 

Before he realized what he was doing, Kevin opened his mouth and sang along. 

Jacob’s fingers faltered on the strings, just barely, and he opened his eyes to stare at Kevin as he quietly matched the honeyed timbre of Jacob’s voice with his own. Kevin was no stranger to singing by any means, but he was used to singing jazz pop songs and Beyoncé, not ballads. And his voice was better suited to the former anyway. But Jacob didn’t seem to care. Kevin had been staring stubbornly at the wall over Jacob’s shoulders, but when he saw him smile out of the corner of his eye he couldn’t help but meet his gaze. Jacob’s coffee eyes glittered, with admiration or excitement, Kevin couldn’t tell. But they glittered nonetheless and he found himself drowning in them as he sang along with Jacob, barely noticing when the key changed and Jacob started leading them in Bruno Mars’ Talking to the Moon. 

Kevin lost track of the songs after a while, his throat burning from the nonstop singing. Everything seemed to slip away, other than the mesh of their voices and the echo of Jacob’s fingers pulling at the strings. He’d made himself comfortable at some point, kicking off his converse and pulling his feet up on the couch. Jacob had shifted off the coffee table, sitting on the floor in front of him. If Kevin reached out, he could’ve combed his fingers through the mop of unruly sandy hair that sat atop Jacob’s head. And then he did reach out, and Jacob merely closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. 

Kevin was flying. 

At some point his throat tapped out, leaving Jacob alone in his singing. The microwave read 4:12. His fingers were still tangled in Jacob’s hair, and he was in no mood to withdraw his hand. Not when he was so close to something he’d never even dreamed of. 

Jacob started signing the last song. Kevin didn’t know how he could tell, but he could. SayWeCanFly, I’ve Lost the Moon. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the arm of the couch. 

_ ‘But I’ve learned the dangers of straying _

_ Along with the dangers of waiting _

_ Let’s do this together _

_ I’ll be yours forever _

_ Or I’d do my best to be _

_ Or I’d die, I’d die trying” _

Kevin looked down at Jacob and nearly lost all sense of mind when he saw that he was already gazing up at him, coffee eyes dark and heavy with meaning. Kevin swallowed. Jacob didn’t look away, and before Kevin had a chance to take a breath the song was over and the guitar was placed on the coffee table. Jacob lifted himself up on one knee, and Kevin was aware of his finger’s tightening in the sandy hair at his nape. 

“This lovesick boy,” Jacob whispered, one hand coming up to grace Kevin’s cheek. “Is getting sick again.” 

Now correct him if he was wrong, but Kevin had known Jacob for roughly four hours. Four hours seemed a little bit too short of a time to crash into someone’s arms like Kevin was about to do. And yet, when Jacob leaned in and all Kevin could see was coffee eyes and all he could hear was the roaring of his heartbeat in his ears, he couldn't bring himself to care. To hell with waiting. Like the song said, it was dangerous. 

Jacob really did taste like strawberry shortcake. 

At least, to Kevin’s heart he did. His lips burned like vodka and his breath smelled like smoke, but all he could taste was sugar and heaven. Jacob kissed like he sang, slow and soft and gentle, as if he were afraid that Kevin was going to run away. And honestly, he might’ve if Jacob’s other hand hadn’t looped around his waist. Never before in Kevin’s entire life had he imagined he’d be making out with a hot punk-rock stranger who sang him songs in his apartment at 4 am, and if he stopped to think about what he was doing he might’ve panicked. But he didn’t stop. Rather, he couldn’t stop. Even if he wanted to, his body was reacting positively to everything Jacob was doing, and he had no desire to change that. Somewhere along the line Kevin sat up, his knees tucked under Jacob’s arms as he knelt between his legs and reached up to kiss him over and over. He had one of his hands tangled in the disobedient head of hair, the other cupping at Jacob’s jaw like he was afraid he’d shatter if he held him too hard. Jacob handled him the same way, and Kevin would be lying if he said it wasn’t the best feeling he’d had since moving to the god-forsaken city of New York. 

When Jacob came up for air, Kevin felt like passing out. 

“Kev,” he murmured, voice hoarse. Kevin supposed even professional musicians had their limits. 

“Yeah?” 

Jacob’s lips brushed his cheek when he spoke. “I know it’s probably a bit late for a house tour now that I’ve sung to you on my living room floor, but would you like to see my bedroom?” 

And if Kevin didn’t bust a gut at those words. 

Jacob grinned as he laughed, their noses bumping in the darkness. Kevin had to lean back against the couch, one arm thrown lazily over Jacob’s shoulder as he pressed the other to his chest, trying his best not to lose his mind. If he was making out with a stranger he supposed it was already a bit late for that. After catching his breath, Kevin shoved lightly at Jacob’s chest, watching as he sat back with a good-natured grunt. 

“If it’s anything like the rest of this apartment, then I’m not sure I want to,” he teased, picking pointedly at a bunch of stuffing coming out of the back of the couch. 

Jacob narrowed his eyes playfully. “I thought you said your place is worse?” 

“Touché,” Kevin replied. Then he stood up and tried not to flush when he noticed how close Jacob’s face was to his crotch. He wasn’t the only one though, spotting the telltale red of Jacob’s ears. 

And then Jacob leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kevin’s hip over his jeans. 

Kevin nearly sank to his knees right there. “The bedroom would be nice,” he croaked out. Jacob nodded, all smiles gone as he pushed himself to his feet. They were nose-to-nose for a moment, and Kevin felt so out of breath he wondered if they would ever make it to the bedroom, or if they’d just end up rolling around naked on Jacob’s stained living room carpet. But then Jacob tore himself away with more self-control than Kevin would ever have in his life and backed up to the door by the tv, his eyes never breaking contact. Kevin really had no choice but to follow. 

Jacob’s room was a mess, unsurprisingly. It was small, with the queen bed shoved against the wall across from a tiny closet. There was a window over a desk filled with sheet music and notebooks and a few cameras, letting in the yellow light from the streets of New York. Kevin ignored the laundry and crumpled music on the floor, instead focusing on the abundance of posters depicting various bands. The Pretty Reckless, Pierce the Veil, Nirvana, SayWeCanFly, Garbage, Reptilia, The Beastie Boys, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles. There were a few posters for some more mainstream singers like Lady Gaga, Ariana Grande, even a couple of Korean bands Kevin recognized from the years Stella had hoarded kpop posters. Littered among the posters were polaroids and photographs. Kevin recognized Eric’s peroxide-blonde spikes and Hwall’s white electric guitar, even Sunwoo’s dusty red fringe and Sangyeon’s easy smile. A few looked like concert photos, depicting different singers with hair flying and smoke forming halos, and a few more actually depicted Jacob at different places; Kevin recognized the Casa Loma in Toronto, the steps of the Met, and what looked like the Han River in Korea. Kevin felt his throat close; it was so similar to his room back home in Vancouver. 

“Kev?” 

Kevin was reminded of why he was even in the room in the first place when he looked to see Jacob standing at the foot of his bed, fingers tapping against his thigh. He swallowed, then took a deep breath. 

“Sorry. Reminds me of my old room.” 

Jacob blinked, before his face twisted into an apologetic grimace. “Oh. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable-“ 

Kevin marched across the room and kissed him. That was all the convincing Jacob needed to stop talking and start  _ doing. _ Within seconds Kevin had his hands back in Jacob’s hair and Jacob had his own hands on Kevin’s hips. Kevin didn’t know why Jacob was still wearing his dual-tone leather jacket, but it took zero convincing for him to run his fingers under the material and push it off his shoulders, nearly choking on his own tongue when he was greeted with bare arms. The sleeves of Jacob’s t-shirt had been cut off to reveal a sleeve of tattoos down his left arm and a band of writing around his right bicep. Kevin had to pull away and take a moment to catch his breath. 

“You good Kev?” Jacob looked concerned, one hand coming to push some hair off of Kevin’s forehead. 

Good was an understatement. Kevin swallowed. “Never better.” Then he pushed at Jacob’s chest and he willingly fell onto the bed, sandy hair splaying out on the pillows like a crown. 

“Hold up,” Jacob said suddenly, lifting himself up on his forearms and pulling his phone out of his pocket. Kevin waited at the side of the bed curiously, watching as Jacob tapped a few times before a song began to play and he shut his phone off. Kevin gaped at him. 

“Is this  _ Hwall?”  _ He muttered, shocked beyond belief. It wasn’t the same screamo music Hwall had been belting out back at the club, but the voice was definitely familiar, crooning from the speaker of Jacob’s phone with such a velvety purr that it couldn’t not be him. 

Jacob laughed. “He’s not a wack job all the time you know. He’s got some good music.” 

“Clearly,” Kevin muttered. Then he pushed all thoughts of Hwall from his head, which was hard to do because he was literally listening to him singing as he prepared himself for a horizontal tango with one of Hwall’s friends. 

Kevin climbed onto the bed and straddled Jacob’s hips. He received a lazy grin, and couldn’t help but grin back as he slowly dragged his t-shirt over his head. Jacob’s hands splayed against his hips, thumbs rubbing into him as his coffee eyes scoured Kevin’s body appreciatively, taking in the various tattoos on his stomach and chest. He wasn’t completely inked up, but he’d gotten a few meaningful illustrations done as soon as he’d moved. 

“For an artist, you’re not bad,” Jacob teased, a deadly smirk playing at his lips. 

“More like I’m starving,” Kevin muttered. Immediately Jacob’s eyes flashed, and Kevin regretted saying that. Now Jacob was going to worry about his living conditions, which he had reason to, but was not necessarily the vibe you were going for when getting down and dirty. Before Jacob had a chance to speak, Kevin was leaning down and playing one of the best cards he had at his disposal. As he scraped his teeth over Jacob’s lips he used his position on top of him to grind his hips down, diving in with tongue when a distracted groan tore from the man under him. Any words Jacob might’ve been about to say died right there, his hands turning into vices on Kevin’s hips. Their tongues danced, and Kevin got more of the strawberry shortcake taste of Jacob’s voice, so much of it he grew dizzy. Drunk on Jacob’s mouth he moaned, their hips meeting in a frenzy of dry friction every second. Kevin was going mad. 

At some point he practically ripped Jacob’s tank off of his body, revealing even more tattoos that had him drooling. Jacob seemed pleased with his reaction, sliding a hand up Kevin’s bare back to take him by the back of the neck and pull him back down for more intoxicating kisses. Kevin was all too willing to oblige. He took any chance he could to taste more of Jacob. Even when he tipped Kevin’s head back to run his lips over his throat and collarbones he managed to meet him halfway and drown himself in the sugary sweetness of Jacob’s smoke and vodka mouth. 

“Im flattered that you like me this much,” Jacob muttered when Kevin began his own attack on any bare skin he found, “but I’m beginning to think we’re not going to get around to anything but making out and I’d love to see what you’re keeping from me in those jeans.” 

Kevin nipped at his collarbone. “Impatient, are we?” Jacob didn’t offer any reply, and when Kevin glanced up at him from under his fringe he found that he was sporting an infuriating grin that confirmed his previous statement. Kevin shrugged and sat back, pushing back his hair. Jacob watched him with heavy eyes. Slow and sure of himself, Kevin reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, watching the way Jacob’s eyes followed his hands with zeal. Then he pulled down the zipper, and Jacob licked his lips. Kevin found himself smiling. He’d never gotten a rush like this; he’d never felt before that someone was hanging on his every movement, ready to move at the first sign from him. Jacob was staring at him with a mixture of hunger and awe, and Kevin felt a high rush through his veins. Jacob  _ wanted  _ him. Jacob wanted  _ him.  _ He got the sense right then that if he asked Jacob to kill for him, the man would do it without question. And even if this was just one night, it was enough for him. Even if he left a piece of himself behind in the morning when he left, covered in bruises and the smell of smoke and the taste of strawberries on his lips, he’d be fine, because he’d always have the knowledge that Jacob had wanted him. At least for one night, Kevin had been  _ wanted.  _ And that was more than he could say for the rest of his life. 

So Kevin hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his jeans and slowly pushed them down, his boxers dragged along for the ride. He peeled the denim from his skin and tossed both articles of clothing aside to join the laundry on Jacob’s floor. Then he looked down at the man under him. 

“Well?” 

Jacob visibly swallowed. His thumb traced over the inked image of a feather on Kevin’s hip. Then after what seemed like forever, he dragged his coffee eyes back up to Kevin’s. “God Kev…” Jacob whispered, sounding like he was having trouble catching his breath. “You’re beautiful.” 

Once upon a time Kevin would’ve blushed. He would've ducked his head, pulled at his earlobe and mumbled some half-assed reply. But not with Jacob. With Jacob he felt so much stronger than he’d ever felt before. He tilted his head, lips parted slightly as he stared down at Jacob. And then he said, in a voice miraculously clear and steady, “Prove to me that you’re not just saying that.” 

Jacob looked like he didn't know how to reply. Then his eyes hardened and he gripped Kevin’s hips again, before flipping their positions in one smooth movement. Once upon a time Kevin would’ve moaned at being manhandled. But not with Jacob. Now he just reclined against the pillows, sinking into the remains of Jacob’s body heat, watching as another set of jeans and boxers joined his own on the floor. 

And then Jacob fell over him like a storm of heat and smoke, dry lips scraping over every inch of Kevin’s skin, from his mouth to his neck and collarbones, to his shoulders and chest and stomach before settling on his hips. Jacob took his time, gazing up at Kevin as he traced the feather tattoo on his hip with his mouth before turning his attention to his thighs. Kevin sighed and tossed his head back against the pillows. He’d thought he’d been flying when Jacob let him play with his hair. He thought he’d been flying when Jacob kissed him. He thought he’d been flying when Jacob kissed his hip over his jeans. He thought he’d been flying when he straddled Jacob’s hips and stared down at the man who so clearly wanted him. But he had been wrong. Like this, with Jacob kissing every bare inch of skin on his body, his breath warm against Kevin’s skin and his fingers skimming over his ink, Kevin was higher than the stars. 

“Believe me yet?” Jacob whispered against his knee. Kevin reached down with one hand, breathless, and Jacob offered his own, letting Kevin pull him back up. His thighs hugged Jacob’s hips as he curled his arms around his neck, licking into his mouth with a quiet hum and pulling at him, trying to get him so close his lungs ached. 

He pulled back, not even realizing that his hair was scattered across his face in a black halo, slick with sweat in the Manhattan summer. Jacob’s eyes searched his own for a long moment, heavy and glittering and drawing Kevin in so close he was afraid if he got any closer their bodies would fuse together. 

“Kiss me again and maybe I will,” Kevin heard himself saying. He was hardly aware of any thoughts going through his head that weren’t Jacob, so where the response came from he really had no clue. His mind was somewhere else entirely, breathing in the man above him. 

But Jacob took the challenge in stride, one hand slipping behind Kevin’s head to cradle his neck as the other pressed against the small of their back, their bodies so close Kevin could feel every line and curve and heartbeat as Jacob’s mouth burned his own. Fire and fuel coursed through Kevin’s veins, lighting him up so much he was afraid he’d combust. Jacob was sending him up in flames, and he couldn’t even bring himself to care. Not when he was drunk off his strawberry vodka kisses and high off his electric touch. Lightning coursed up his spine. Kevin could’ve burned a hole in Jacob’s sheets, he was running so hot. 

And when Jacob held him down with the weight of his own body, mouths pressed together, bodies drawn tight with tension and arousal, and murmured “You’re so beautiful,” with the conviction of the world behind his words, Kevin found himself believing him. 

“Jacob,” he croaked out, voice tight with things he couldn’t say. 

“Yeah?” 

Kevin’s eyes were closed. He couldn't bring himself to open them and see the fire in Jacob’s gaze. But he knew he didn’t need them open for what came next. Clutching at the back of Jacob’s head, he brought his lips up to the shell of his ear and whispered, “Set me on fire.” 

And Jacob did. Somehow he didn’t need any clarification, he just knew exactly what Kevin meant, and he delivered. There was a blinded rush when Jacob reached into his nightstand for lube and came back, repositioning himself with his knees shoved under Kevin’s thighs as he poured the lube over his fingers. Normally, Kevin wouldn't have been phased if someone stuck their finger up his ass; he did that on his own a few too many times a week for it to be considered normal. But every time Jacob touched him his skin burned, so when the first digit made contact Kevin gripped at the pillow above his head so tight he was afraid his nails would rip the fabric. Somehow, despite his writhing and twisting, Jacob managed to prep him, coarse guitarists fingers rubbing over his walls with too much precision for this to have been their first time together. Maybe Jacob was the faceless guy in all of Kevin’s wet dreams. Or maybe they just knew each other so well despite having met only a few hours ago that Jacob didn’t need experience to know how to pleasure him. 

By the time Jacob managed to press the head of his cock against Kevin’s rim, there was a ball of nerves so tight in his stomach that he was afraid he’d burst as soon as Jacob pushed in. But the only thing that happened when he did was Kevin’s world turning upside down. In one smooth motion, Jacob bottomed out and smashed his mouth against Kevins with such fervor it was less of a kiss and more of an attack, teeth and tongue clashing violently. Kevin could feel Jacob’s heartbeat in his entire body, echoing in his own chest and shaking him to his core. He felt like his insides had turned to molten lava, hot and thick and threatening to fry him from the inside out. Kevin wouldn't have been surprised if he was steaming he felt so warm. 

Jacob didn't move for the longest time. They just lay there, tangled together in a heap of heat. Every time Jacob exhaled, Kevin inhaled, breathing him in as they clutched at each other, pressed together from their foreheads to their feet. Kevin never wanted this to end. He was higher than the stars. 

When Jacob finally began to rock against him, it was the same way he sang and kissed. Soft, sweet, slow and gentle. Every movement jarred Kevin, his teeth practically chattering from the force of it all. Jacob wasn’t faring much better, breathing short and high as he cradled Kevin’s body as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Every thrust hit deep at home, leaving Kevin feeling like jelly. He didn’t know where he ended and Jacob began, he didn’t know where his limbs were, what his hands were doing, where his legs had ended up. He was lost in Jacob, and he was fine with it. 

He didn’t know what time it was or how long they’d been doing this. By the time his body finally tapped out, Kevin was too far gone to notice much else other than Jacob’s fiery mouth scraping desperately against his own and the white-hot bolt of energy that surged through him, tearing from his body with a carnal noise that he didn’t even realize he made. Kevin had gone supernova in a matter of seconds, drifting along in the space made by Jacob’s arms as he imploded.  It was hot, it was fire, it was the whole galaxy plunged into his chest and then ripped from him by chapped guitarists hands and coffee colored eyes.

Then Jacob kissed him again, long and hard and everything that Kevin had never had. He could die right then and there and it wouldn’t have mattered because he had a feeling that even if he never saw Jacob again after tonight, nothing would ever compare to the sunlight in his chest right now. 

“Kevin,” Jacob breathed against his mouth, hot and breathless. All he could do was hum to let him know he was listening. “Kevin,” Jacob said again. “You’re the moon.” 

Kevin was 100% sure that Jacob had no clue what his last name was, but those three words hit him in the stomach with such force he had to squeeze his eyes shut so as not to cry. It was all he could do to cradle Jacob’s jaw in his hands and whisper, “You showed me the stars.” 

Kevin woke up after a couple hours, sunlight drifting through the window above Jacob’s desk. They were still pressed together, every inch of bare skin covered by Jacob. And Kevin bit his lip when he forced himself to pull away, when he forced himself to clean himself up as much as possible with the packet of wet wipes in Jacob’s nightstand, when he forced himself to pull his clothes back on. Jacob was frowning in his sleep, hands reaching out blindly, and Kevin’s chest ached. After a long moment of debate, Kevin leaned down and kissed Jacob’s sweaty forehead, giving him his hand to hold in his sleep for a moment. The lines on Jacob’s face relaxed. Kevin forced himself to step back. 

His heel crunched into a crumpled piece of sheet music. Kevin picked it up, stared at it, then thought  _ fuck it,  _ and uncrumpled it, taking a pen from Jacob’s desk and scribbling a note. Nothing deep or serious, nothing that could have suggested that Kevin would spend the rest of his life wishing he never left Jacob’s apartment that morning. He didn’t leave his phone number or address. Just a thank you, signed with a small crescent moon. 

Then he left. 

He ran into Sangyeon down in the cafe, the poor guy looking like he’d been run over by a garbage truck as he sipped an espresso at the counter. When Kevin crept into the cafe, he looked up and squinted. 

“Kevin? What are you…” Sangyeon trailed off as his eyes took in Kevin’s appearance; the sticky, messy hair, the wrinkled clothing, and the telltale collar of bruises along his neck and throat. “Oh. Did you and Jake-“ 

“Don’t tell him you saw me,” Kevin cut him off, pleading. He didn’t know why he was forcing himself away. Maybe because he was terrified of what it would mean if Jacob wanted him to stay. Maybe because he was terrified of what he had felt when he woke up tangled in Jacob’s arms. Maybe because he was terrified of what he had seen when Jacob looked at him like he was everything he needed and more. Or maybe because he was terrified to admit to himself that he wanted to run back upstairs, wake Jacob up with a searing kiss and do it all again. 

He hung his head. “I wish I could stay, but-“ he choked on his words. “I just- I need to go. Please, Sangyeon, just don’t tell him you saw me?” 

The guy looked shocked but he nodded. “Yeah. Sure.” 

Kevin ducked his head and slunk towards the door. As he placed his hand on the handle, Sangyeon called out to him. 

“You must have been special, if Jake invited you inside. You shouldn’t run away just because you’re scared. Not from him.” 

Kevin bit his lip hard. The flesh was sore from Jacob’s burning vodka kisses. He left the cafe without a word, hoping Sangyeon didn't see him wipe his cheeks. 

_ I may have been the moon _

_ But you were the sun _

_ Two forces that would be beautiful together for one moment  _

_ Before destroying everything in its path.  _

—

Kevin shoved the sweaty hair from his forehead. His apartment was still a mess, but the mess had turned from dirty living habits to dirty working habits. A dozen canvases lined his walls, with cardboard boxes packed with styrofoam and bubble wrap protecting his few sculptures stacked up in the corners. Paint splattered the canvas he’d had to lay out on the floor. His laptop had crashed seven times in the past two days from having so many programs running, from his emails to his painting software to his stupid Spotify. His inbox was full of messages from the showcase coordinators, telling him that he needed to finish his productions by the end of the week. He had four flash drives full of digital art that he still had to sift through to figure out what to send to his agent. Kevin was living and breathing his own job, and it had never been such a welcome distraction. 

He’d been drowning himself in work for weeks. He had too many things he couldn’t help but think about. Too many things that hurt to think about. Work was the only distraction that he had at his disposal, and thankfully, it currently required the majority of his time. If he had more than five minutes to himself he’d wind up sobbing into the blankets tossed on the floor that served as his bed. The star in his chest had burnt itself out as soon as he left that stupidly cute little cafe. 

A chunk of styrofoam hit the side of his head. “Yo, Kev, quit daydreaming. Are we helping you choose for your showcase or not?” 

He cast a disgruntled look at the russet head of Changmin, who was tapping his foot impatiently. Chanhee was sprawled out on his twin-sized nest of blankets on the floor, being absolutely no help whatsoever. 

“Time's a-ticking man,” Changmin said, tapping his wrist. His point would have been made if he’d been wearing a watch, but accessories were Chanhee’s thing. “You need our help or not?” 

“I do,” Kevin muttered, “but I’m very sorry that it has to come from the likes of you two.” Which was the most honest thing he’d said in a long time. Changmin had some energy going for him, but despite his impatience and drive for productivity, he had a painfully small attention span at times that made it hard to work with him. And Chanhee… well. What could be said about Chanhee? The guy was a pillow prince. He’d help as long as there wasn’t a chance of chipping a nail, and with some of the ceramic sculptures Kevin needed to go through, the chances of that happening were unfortunately high. 

Changmin looked offended, and Chanhee had opened his mouth to start complaining no doubt, but a knock on Kevin’s door interrupted them. 

“Oh thank god,” Kevin muttered, throwing himself at the door and swinging it open, not even looking at who was on the other side. “Hyunjae I’m so glad you’re here, these two are no help at all.” 

“Well I don’t know who this Hyunjae guy is, but I’d be willing to help with whatever you’re working on.” 

Kevin stopped in his tracks. He knew that voice. Hell, how could he forget? That voice tasted like strawberry shortcake. And it belonged to a man he couldn’t help but crash into. As soon as he heard that voice speak he felt like his lungs had been crushed and reinflated within a matter of seconds. His chest ached with the force of a meteor.

“No…”

Changmin met his eyes, his eyebrows lowered. “Kev, do you know this guy?” 

Chanhee had sat up on his nest, pretty face pulled into a territorial frown. “You need us to help?” God bless his friends; they were willing to leap into action despite the fact that both of them were a little on the mousy side. 

Kevin shook his head. “No, I…” he clenched his fists at his side. He wanted to turn around. He wanted to turn around and throw himself at the man currently standing in his doorway. He wanted to scream and cry and smash one of the stupid ceramic sculptures he didn’t even like. He wanted to bury himself in his nest and dedicate another ten pages in his poetry journal to him. Most of all, Kevin wanted to close his eyes and fly into the sun. He wanted to go back to the night where he had discovered what it meant to crash and burn. 

“ _ I’ve lost the moon,”  _ that sugar sweet voice sang. Kevin sensed him take a step forward. “ _ While trying to count the stars, I’ve lost my mind. But that’s okay, ‘cause I’ve been trying to fix my heart, and if I spend all of my time, searching for angels in the sky, I’ll miss the one who’s right here by my side.”  _ And if Kevin hadn’t sensed that Jacob had sung that song for him that night on his living room floor, then this moment would have been as obvious as a neon sign. The notion hit him like a ton of bricks. Because he’d known that night that Jacob had wanted him. And he’d wanted Jacob with all the petulant desire of a child looking at the newest toy. He’d wanted to gather him into his chest and keep him there, threatening to end the life of whoever came close. He’d wanted to keep Jacob all for himself, hoard him away from the preying hands of passerby and onlookers. He’d wanted to take Jacob by the hand and guide him to a place deep inside himself, where nothing could ever hurt them and they’d be joined together in a tangle of stardust and moonbeams, forever breathing in the tantalizing smoke of Jacob’s breath. 

Then there was a hand on his shoulder. The same hand that had reached out and touched his shoulder at the rock club. The same hand that had gripped his waist, cradled his head, caressed his skin, traced the feather tattoo on his hip. And Kevin was gone. 

He spun around. Jacob cracked that same, easy, slightly hopeful smile that had softened Kevin’s heart and steadied his nerves, the same smile that he’d covered under his hand when he was laughing about stupid jokes from high school, the same smile that had glittered in the darkness of a bedroom that had made Kevin want to cry. How Jacob still had it in him to smile at him after everything he’d put him through, Kevin had no idea. He’d left him after the best night of his life and then unwittingly led him on a wild goose chase across Manhattan, hiding from him. Hiding from someone that had wanted him. Hiding from himself. 

“Found you, Moon.” Jacob murmured. Kevin couldn't tell if he wanted to punch him in the gut or kiss him senseless. “Though I don’t understand why you tried so hard to hide. You had to have known I’d get here eventually.” 

Kevin’s nails were starting to sting his palms. If it weren’t for Chanhee reaching out and taking his hand, he would’ve cut himself. Instead, he left his hand in the delicate care of the pretty boy in his bed. Because how could he bring himself to reach out, to touch Jacob’s face, to fall into his arms and kiss him until his lips were cracked and bleeding and his legs were about to give and the sun was about to die? How could he allow himself to want him again, when he’d left him behind, naked and tangled in the remains of a starlit night? How could Kevin do anything except cling to Chanhee’s hand like a lifeline and bare himself for his friends and the sun of his world to see? 

“I was hoping you’d let it go.” His voice sounded raw. 

An expression flashed across Jacob’s face. Kevin nearly took a step back when he saw it; pure anguish. Exactly what he’d felt about leaving, mirrored on Jacob’s face. God, what had he done? 

“Kevin Moon, you’ve got to be the most bullheaded fuckass I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting,” Jacob muttered. He gripped Kevin by the shoulders, so hard he felt his teeth clack. He wanted to bury his face in the skin of Jacob’s neck and breathe in the sweat and the sorrow so clearly written in the desperate lines of his face. He wanted to kiss the pain off of Jacob’s lips and caress the tension from his shoulders. He wanted everything Jacob could give him and he wanted to give it all in return. But all he could do was close his eyes and try not to sob when Jacob asked in a voice so cracked Kevin thought it would shatter, “Why did you run away? I know it wasn’t one sided, Kev. I know you better than that. What were you so afraid of? That if you hadn’t left, I would have? That it was all a game? Seriously, tell me, because this entire time I’ve been looking for you endlessly and wondering what I did wrong that you felt you had to leave.” 

Pure anguish was an understatement, Kevin decided. He felt his chest crack as Jacob stared at him, waiting for an answer. An answer that he’d been looking for ever since waking up to discover that the moon had suddenly disappeared from the world. How had Kevin been so stupid? Because Jacob was here, after weeks of searching for him throughout all of Manhattan, and asking him why he had left. Because Jacob was here, chafed and bleeding in the depths of his coffee eyes, staring at him with the wild desperation of a man driven mad by the moon. Because Kevin had no good reason, no good excuse. Nothing like “oh sorry, I cheated on my boyfriend with you” or “I'm actually a mafia boss and now that I've slept with you your life is in danger.” All Kevin had to offer was an aching heart and a fear of rejection. And he knew that those were not enough to make up for the hell he’d imposed on Jacob by twisting out of his arms that morning. 

He hung his head. “I was afraid that we’d destroy each other.” 

Jacob blinked. Then he thought for a moment. Then he sighed. Kevin thought he was going to get lectured, or worse, Jacob would give up and leave, and he’d never come back. He thought his heart was going to spill from his pores and drown them both. But then Jacob grabbed Kevin by the chin and kissed him so hard his jaw ached and his pulse rattled in his throat. 

And just like that, the supernova that had died in his stomach burst, and he found himself crashing into Jacob and his vodka-and-smoke mouth and his stupid dual tone leather jacket and studded boots and unruly sandy brown hair and glittering coffee eyes so deep Kevin could never reach the bottom. 

“I’d happily destroy myself if it meant being with you.” Jacob was staring at him, hard, when he pulled away. “I’d destroy the world if it meant another night with you. If it meant learning you and knowing you and understanding what makes the moon shine the way it does.”  _ The moon.  _ Jacob was talking about him. If he was the moon to Jacob, then there was a clear reason why his jaw was set and his eyes were so hard. Jacob was mad. And rightly so. Because Kevin thought that if he woke up one day and the sun had stopped shining, he’d be mad too. And he couldn’t stand the thought that he was the reason Jacob’s smile had faded. 

“Jacob-“ Kevin struggled, gripping Chanhee’s hand so hard he heard his knuckles pop. It was probably a good thing his friend politely didn’t interrupt. “I may have been the moon, but you were the sun. Two forces, that, if they met, could create something beautiful for a moment before destroying everything in its path. That night with you was the best decision i've ever made, but-“ 

“But nothing.” Jacob’s normally gentle voice was hard and rough on the edges. Kevin wondered if he’d been crying, and the thought made him hate himself even more than he already did. “If it was the best decision you've ever made then there shouldn’t be any ‘buts’ because that implies you regret it. Do you regret it?” When Jacob asked that, his voice broke, and Kevin realized how much Jacob needed him to say no. 

And he did. And it was the first time he’d been so honest with himself since that night in Jacob’s arms. 

“Then to hell with the sun and the moon.” Jacob cradled Kevin’s face in his hands. “I don’t care about that, about any of it. I spent the last three weeks searching for you. I haven't felt this strongly about anyone before in my life, Kev. So stop running from me. Stop trying to protect me from something that I’d happily risk if it means getting to know you better and better each day. Stop thinking with your head and start thinking with your heart.” 

Kevin stared at Jacob’s sternum for a long moment.  _ Start thinking with my heart. When did I stop doing that?  _ What an absolute fuckass he’d been. He’d let his doubt and his fear blind him from the truth that had sung away his imperfections and kissed him punch-drunk dizzy. And he’d let himself get carried away in the innate romanticism of yearning for a night he could never recreate, all for the purpose of hiding from himself. What an absolute, perfect fuckass he had been. 

He dropped Chanhee’s hand, grabbed Jacob’s face and kissed him until the stars burst in his eye sockets and the sun melted his teeth. 

“I think,” Kevin breathed when he finally pulled away, Jacob looking dazed and lovestruck and desperate for more of the moonlight Kevin poured into his chest, “that I’d write myself into a book so that you could read me. Sculpt myself into a statue so that you could spend the rest of your life learning every line of my body. I think that if you asked me what my favorite color was I’d paint the world with it.” He leaned his forehead against Jacob’s and breathed him in, Jacob holding him as if all the stars in the galaxy were contained under his skin. “Get to know me Jacob. Know who I am. Understand what makes me shine. Learn every bone in my body. Starting with this.” Then he kneed Jacob in the crotch so hard he heard both Changmin and Chanhee suck in deep breaths in sympathy. 

Jacob keeled over, kneeling against the paint-splattered canvas on Kevin’s floor. “What was that for?” He wheezed out, face red with pain, every semblance of the lovesick gaze he’d just had trained on Kevin’s face wiped away.

Kevin reached down and combed his fingers through Jacob’s disobedient hair. He couldn’t help but think to himself how much he liked Jacob like this; kneeling in front of him, staring up at him not only expecting an answer but as if Kevin held the answer to every question Jacob had ever asked. He liked knowing that Jacob wanted him. He liked knowing that Jacob would chase him across Manhattan just to kneel in front of him and look up at him from the floor with coffee eyes that glittered with deja vu and awe. Jacob’s eyes grew heavy and he kissed his hip over his jeans like he had back in his apartment. 

“That was for keeping me waiting this long,” Kevin muttered. Then he pulled Jacob to his feet and kissed him, so deep and soft and slow that he forgot they had an audience. He kissed him like he was trying to pull Jacob into himself, sucking in everything that made him shine so brightly and pushing it all back out in an explosion of heat and fire. “And that was for actually bothering to find me.” 

Jacob’s lips quirked into a lopsided grin. Sparks burst in Kevin’s cheeks. “The sun always chases the moon.” 

And Kevin was flying and falling all at once. 

And god, could he taste the stars on Jacob’s tongue. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, comments are always appreciated!


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